starsandsea (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
starsandsea) wrote2009-07-10 07:38 pm
starsandsea) wrote2009-07-10 07:38 pm
Entry tags:
Drabble: Big Town
Title: Big Town
Rating: PG
Characters: Clark, Bruce
Word Count: 218
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Author's Note: The third fic in the Shuffle B verse. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
worlds_finest Shuffle B Challenge. Prompt of 'Big Town'. Unbetaed, so point and I shall correct.
Clark walked amongst the gravestones, hundreds of them, lines of sorrow and grief as far as the eye could see. Some had fresh flowers. Some were overgrown, with moss growing freely on the stones, obscuring the names carved into them, hiding the secret of who lay beneath the ground.
The most heartbreaking were those of children.
Finally, Clark came to a set of graves, lovingly tended to. No moss was allowed to grow on these stones. Never. There was a new stone, gleaming, smothered in flowers. The most simplest were those at the front, closest to the headstone. Clark knew, even if he hadn't attended the funeral only yesterday, pushed back to protect Bruce's secret, that those were the ones from Dick and Tim, Alfred and Leslie.
He had vague memories of attending the funeral, but it was mostly of Diana and J'onn as unwavering presences at his side. Now, seeing the name, seeing Bruce's name carved into the stone...
Clark wanted to howl, to tear what must be a nightmare world apart.
But it wasn't. This was real. Real as the cold stone. As the fact that Bruce was buried six feet under the ground in a wooden box. As real as the tears he could feel on his face.
Clark bowed his head and wept.
Rating: PG
Characters: Clark, Bruce
Word Count: 218
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Author's Note: The third fic in the Shuffle B verse. For
worlds_finest Shuffle B Challenge. Prompt of 'Big Town'. Unbetaed, so point and I shall correct.Clark walked amongst the gravestones, hundreds of them, lines of sorrow and grief as far as the eye could see. Some had fresh flowers. Some were overgrown, with moss growing freely on the stones, obscuring the names carved into them, hiding the secret of who lay beneath the ground.
The most heartbreaking were those of children.
Finally, Clark came to a set of graves, lovingly tended to. No moss was allowed to grow on these stones. Never. There was a new stone, gleaming, smothered in flowers. The most simplest were those at the front, closest to the headstone. Clark knew, even if he hadn't attended the funeral only yesterday, pushed back to protect Bruce's secret, that those were the ones from Dick and Tim, Alfred and Leslie.
He had vague memories of attending the funeral, but it was mostly of Diana and J'onn as unwavering presences at his side. Now, seeing the name, seeing Bruce's name carved into the stone...
Clark wanted to howl, to tear what must be a nightmare world apart.
But it wasn't. This was real. Real as the cold stone. As the fact that Bruce was buried six feet under the ground in a wooden box. As real as the tears he could feel on his face.
Clark bowed his head and wept.